


Never Trust a Skinny Baker

by mnwood



Series: Never Trust a Skinny Baker 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Aromantic Dean, Baker Dean, Bakery, Chubby Dean, Deaf Castiel, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Foster Care, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/pseuds/mnwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean owns a bakery. Cas is a patron who can't hear, and Dean happens to know sign language. This fic has all the tropes you know and love so get reading, fuckos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Trust a Skinny Baker

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. To be clear, Cas is unambiguously deaf. Whenever he's talking in this fic, he's signing. He does not use his voice. Dean, however, speaks and signs at the same time when he's talking to Cas - unless otherwise specified.  
> 2\. The word "gay" is used as an umbrella term in this fic. (Trust me, I would never write Dean as anything other than the raging bisexual that he is.)  
> 3\. Just a warning that some of the characters aren't exactly "politically correct" about deafness.  
> 4\. I wrote this faster than I've ever written anything in my life, so if you see any typos please tell me.

 

 

“There. All done,” Dean announces as he steps back and makes sure the sign he just hung is straight.

“‘Never Trust a Skinny Baker,’” Sam reads. He stands next to Dean and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re not fat, Dean.” 

“I know. That’s why the sign’s funny. ‘Cause I’m a skinny baker.” Dean grabs a rag off the counter and wipes down the display case one more time.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, how many people have liked our Facebook page?”

Sam pulls out his phone. “Since you asked me half an hour ago? Uh, we’re still at 200.”

“Yeah, and how many of those 200 are gonna be at our grand opening?”

“Dean. Quit worrying about it. We’re gonna do fine.”

 

* * *

 

They do more than fine. So many people show up on their opening day that they probably end up turning away more people than they actually serve. Sam goes on six different supply runs, and at one point Dean sees Kevin sitting in the fetal position in a corner of the kitchen while Krissy looms over him shouting at him to _“get your shit together, man!”_

Dean adds, “Hire more employees—maybe venture outside of high school students” to his to-do list. 

Around noon, Dean puts Alex in charge of gently kicking patrons out when they’ve overstayed their welcome. If they’ve been done eating their pastry for longer than 20 minutes, they get the boot. Alex is tougher than Kevin but softer than Krissy, so she’s the right man for the job.

That is, until 4 p.m. when she comes around the display case and furiously whispers in Dean’s ear, “Argyle at 3 o’clock never ordered anything and has been here for an hour. Every time I try to tell him he needs to order something or leave, he just smiles at me.”

As Dean is handing a chocolate croissant to a customer, he looks to his 3 o’clock and spots a man in a black argyle sweater. His hands are folded on the small table in front of him, and he’s looking out the window as if he’s waiting on someone.

“He didn’t say anything to you?” Dean asks Alex.

“No!” she nearly shouts. “I don’t know what to do.”

Dean removes his gloves and pats her shoulder. “All right, you take over. I’ll see what I can do.”

Dean has to weave through the crowd of people to reach the man, and some of them give him confused looks as if wondering why the baker isn’t in the back baking. He is, after all, the only one wearing an apron and covered in flour.

“Hi,” Dean says loudly once he’s standing in front of the man.

The guy keeps looking out the window.

Dean huffs a laugh and waves a hand in front of the guy’s face.

Argyle turns, startled, before his face softens into a smile at the sight of Dean. He holds up a hand and gives a small wave.

“Are you waiting on someone?”

The man smiles and very briefly nods.

“You have no idea what I’m saying, do you?” Dean asks.

The man continues to smile.

 _Please don’t be from another country, please don’t be from another country, please don’t be from another country,_ Dean thinks to himself as he holds up his hands and signs, “Do you sign?”

The man’s face lights up, and he quickly signs back, “Yes. I can’t hear you, and I’m unfortunately not very good at lip-reading. I imagine the girl who has stopped by here a few times over the past hour was trying to tell me to leave, but it’s very important that I stay here. I hope you understand.”

Dean huffs a laugh and looks over toward the counter to make sure Alex hasn’t burned the place down yet. She seems to be doing all right behind the display case, and Kevin seems fine on the register, so Dean takes a seat across from Argyle.

“What’s your name?” Dean signs. 

“Castiel,” the man responds. 

“Castiel?” Dean asks out loud, trying to get the pronunciation right before realizing that Castiel won’t be able to tell him one way or another if he said it right.

“You can call me Cas,” Castiel continues.

“All right, Cas.” Dean rolls his sleeves up before he continues signing. “What’s so important that you have to take up one of my tables on opening day?” 

Cas frowns and looks out the window before answering. “I’m meeting my new false daughter here.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Can you spell out the word ‘false’?”

“F-O-S-T-E—”

“Oh, foster daughter?” Dean says out loud as he spells faster than Cas.

Cas snaps his fingers and points at Dean. 

Dean repeats the motion for “false,” and Cas nods. Dean continues, “Is that how being a foster parent works? You meet your kid at a bakery?”

“She’s 16. I’m extremely nervous.”

Stupidly, Dean wonders if the girl is also hard of hearing. It would be awkward if she’s not. Right?

“Please, I promise she and I will buy something when she gets here. I just need to save this table.”

Dean waves him off. “It’s fine, Cas, don’t worry about it.” He stands and wipes his hands on his apron, which is stupid because his apron is covered in flour.

Cas grabs him by the arm before he can walk away. Frantically, he signs, “What’s your name?”

“Dean,” Dean says and spells with a smile.

“Hello, Dean.” 

Dean blushes as he walks back toward the counter.

“Dude, is he deaf?” Alex asks brashly as Dean puts his gloves back on and shoves her out of the way.

“Yeah.”

“So, you’re just gonna let him stay there all day?”

“He’s waiting on someone. It’s important.”

“Or he’s hot and you’re gay.” 

“Yeah, well? You— _you’re_ —gay.”

“Never said I wasn’t.” 

“Can you go back to kicking people out and cleaning tables? Please?”

Alex rolls her eyes but obeys.

 _Fucking teenagers,_ Dean thinks with no real malice.

Half an hour later, Dean realizes he hasn’t taken a break since they opened at 7 a.m. He starts feeling lightheaded, so he sneaks to the kitchen and scarfs down half of an old apple pie. Krissy gives him a judgmental look, but he glares at her until she ignores him.

 _Fucking teenagers,_ he thinks again. 

At 5:13 p.m. (not that Dean’s counting or anything), a young girl with long, blonde hair and too much eye makeup comes into the bakery and looks around as if she’s lost. Eventually she spots Castiel and tentatively walks over to him. He stands in excitement and holds his hand out for her to shake, but she ignores him and takes her seat. Castiel deflates and sits back down.

Dean can’t tear his eyes away even as he hands bread and pastries off to patrons. Castiel is signing slowly but excitedly, but the girl isn’t responding. She has her arms folded over her chest, and she looks like she would rather be anywhere in the world than sitting in front of Cas.

“Excuse me,” Dean says to a customer who was in the middle of asking about their coffee options. The customer scoffs at Dean, but he ignores him and walks over to Cas’ table. 

“Do you sign?” Dean asks the girl without signing the question.

“Who the fuck are you?” she shoots back.

Dean puts his hands on his hips and drops his weight back. “Look, I get it. You think you’re tough with your cool braid and your ripped jeans and your take-no-shit attitude. I get it, all right. You’ve probably been tossed around the system all your life and can’t wait to turn 18 so you can be on your own and not have to answer to anybody, right? But right now you’re just an asshole kid who’s been dealt a shitty hand, and you can either make the most of it or continue being an asshole. What’s it gonna be, huh?”

“What the fuck do you know? You have no idea what it’s like, and why do you even care anyway?”

Dean looks at Cas, and Cas stares up at him helplessly.

“Kid, my only home for the first 17 years of my life was the goddamn backseat of a car, so don’t tell me what I do and don’t know. Now, can you sign or not?”

Her face softens, and her mouth drops open in surprise. She quickly closes it though and grits her teeth. “No. I can’t.”

“All right, well, I hope you’re a fast learner.” He turns to Cas and signs, “She can’t understand you.” He turns back to the girl and asks, “What’s your name?”

“Claire,” she answers begrudgingly. “He already knows—”

“Her name is Claire, and she’s an asshole,” he signs to Cas. To Claire, he says, “You guys need to get in line and order something or else I’m gonna have to kick you out.”

“I don’t have any money,” Claire says.

“Boo-hoo, get a job.” 

Ten minutes later, Cas stands in front of Dean and orders a piece of banana bread and a dark chocolate mocha frappuccino. Claire orders a brownie and asks for a cup of water.

Cas leaves a $10 bill in the tip jar and winks at Dean before he and Claire leave. 

Alex opens the door to the kitchen and shouts back to Krissy, “Deaf guy’s got the hots for Dean!”

 

* * *

 

After their first week, things start to slow down. Dean takes a seat and catches his breath for the first time in what feels like days, and he actually eats a real meal instead of shoving pastries down his throat between customers. 

“Whoa, you’re eating a burger,” Sam says as he comes into the kitchen with grocery bags in both of his hands.

Dean shrugs at him as if to ask, _“So?”_

“Eileen and I were getting worried that you had taken up a pastry-only diet.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn't see that. What did you say?” Eileen asks as she comes into the kitchen with even more grocery bags.

Dean flips her off in response.

“Oh. You told him about the pastry-only diet, didn’t you?” she says to Sam.

Sam drops the tomatoes he was putting away and signs, “Did you ever think you would miss seeing Dean eat burgers?”

They both turn toward Dean and stare at him with fake affection.

“All right, that’s enough.” Dean picks up his burger, fries and drink and heads to his room. 

He can’t wait to be out of debt so he can move out of his brother’s apartment. Well, technically the apartment belongs equally to the both of them. But then Eileen moved in. And then Sam married Eileen. And now it’s awkward.

Dean opens his computer as he finishes his dinner, and he checks their Facebook page for the hundredth time in the past week. They’re up to 900 likes, and Dean had to change his privacy settings on his personal page so that women would stop sending him their numbers.

Not that he would mind going out with any of them (if he was a person that went on dates). It’s just weird that he’s suddenly the “hot baker” in town, and he really doesn’t need Krissy and Alex making fun of him even more than they already do. So he’ll pass on dating any customers. 

Speaking of customers he’d like to go out with, Cas hasn’t been by since that first day. Claire hasn’t, either. Dean finds himself wondering how they’re getting along and worrying that it’s probably a disaster. He wishes he could help, but he didn’t learn anything past their first names.

On a whim, Dean goes to the list of people who have liked their page and types in “Castiel.” Nothing comes up. He tries “Claire” and gets three results, but none of them look like a rebellious teenager.

He gives up and throws his takeout in the garbage. He goes back to the kitchen and grabs a slice of pie out of the fridge, and Sam and Eileen make a big deal out of it from the living room.

Dean ignores them.

 

* * *

 

During week two, Dean realizes that their slow hours are between 3 and 5 p.m. and so he uses the time to get as much baking done as possible. He’s also the only one working between 3 and 4, so when the bell on the front door dings he wipes his hands and steps out of the kitchen.

Claire stares him down and slaps a piece of paper onto the counter.

“You got a job application?” she asks.

Dean picks up her resume and furrows his brow at it. “What makes you think we’re hiring?”

“I don’t go to school. I take online classes at night, and you need more than just you and that giant guy here in the mornings. Also, if I remember correctly you told me to get a job.”

“You have a typo on your resume.”

“Do you have a job application or not?” 

He sighs and stuffs her resume in his apron. “You can start on Saturday, 8 a.m. If you swipe money from the register, I’m sending your ass back to juvie.”

“I was never in—”

“Sure you weren’t.”

Claire bristles but doesn’t say anything else. Dean winks at her, and she turns on her heel and heads for the door.

Before she leaves, Dean shouts, “Hey! Tell your foster dad to stop by sometime!”

She gives him a confused, annoyed look and pushes through the door.

Miraculously, after Dean has sent Krissy and Kevin home for the night and is considering closing shop early, the bell dings. 

Cas is wearing khaki pants and a light blue button-down shirt under a navy argyle vest today. The shirt desperately needs to be ironed, and Dean for some reason finds that endearing.

“Were you about to close?” Cas signs as he approaches the counter.

“Nope. What can I do for you?”

Cas looks past Dean and tilts his head as if he's reading something.

Dean turns to see what he’s looking at, then he immediately turns back around and explains, “See, it’s funny because I _am_ skinny. Well, probably not for much longer.” Dean self-consciously palms his stomach. “I’ve gained, like, 10 pounds since we opened.” He makes a “yikes” face, and Cas laughs.

A moment of silence passes, and Cas looks around the shop as if checking to see if anybody else is there. When he realizes they’re alone, he says to Dean, “Would you like to sit with me?”

“Sure, Cas. What’ll you have?” 

“Whatever you want.”

Dean chuckles and goes to the back to pull out a fresh pecan pie. He plates two slices, both a little more generous than he would normally give his customers, and finds Cas sitting at his table in the corner staring out the window.

After Dean sets the pie down, he goes to the door and turns the “open” sign to “closed.”

Cas smiles warmly at him when he sits, and Dean feels heat rise to his cheeks as he digs into his pie.

Dean gets so focused on how good the pie is that he forgets he has to look up if he wants to have a conversation with Cas. As soon as he tears his eyes away from his plate, Cas begins moving his hands. 

“Is Claire really going to work here?”

“Yeah, how’d you know? Oh, wait, shit. Sorry.” Dean sets his fork down and wipes his hands on his apron. He then signs, “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“We have all of our conversations through text messaging. I’m glad you also speak when you sign, because I apparently need to learn how to read lips. Sooner rather than later. It’s been difficult.”

“I’m sorry, Cas. She doesn’t want to learn ASL?” 

He shakes his head and takes a bite of his pie.

“You don’t have a, uh, wife or anything that can help parent the kid?”

Cas smiles and shakes his head again. He makes the sign for “single.”

Not knowing what to say next, Dean gets up and grabs two cups of water for them. He finishes off his pie and is tempted to get another piece.

“No offense, man, but how’d you become a foster parent in the first place?” 

Cas laughs loudly at that, and Dean is surprised at how deep his voice is. He takes another bite of pie before answering, “I’m a very good cook.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I can make meals for children. I’m also a writer, so I work from home. I get lonely, and children are loud and easy to get along with.”

“How the hell would you know if a kid is loud?”

“If you saw a tree fall in the forest but you couldn’t hear it, wouldn’t you presume that it made a noise?”

Dean laughs and forgets to stop himself from taking a bite of Cas’ pie.

“Oops. Sorry,” Dean says and signs around a mouthful of pecan.

Cas pushes the plate over and assures him that he’s full anyway.

  

* * *

 

“None of the other employees have to wear aprons,” Claire gripes as she ties an apron around her waist at 7:55 a.m. Saturday.

“Yeah, well, none of the other employees show up in jeans that went through a wood chipper,” Dean fires back.

“You didn’t give me a dress code,” Claire mumbles.

Dean stops counting money and gives her a pointed look.

“What?” she accuses.

He shakes his head and turns back to the register. 

Their silence is broken a moment later by Sam coming in through the back.

“Hey, Dean, who’s this?” he asks bluntly as he hangs his coat up on the rack by the silverware station.

“Claire. Nice to meet you,” Claire says with no inflection in her voice.

“Claire here has been spying on us apparently,” Dean explains. “She somehow knew when we needed more help and offered to provide said help.” 

“Huh. Weird.” Sam goes back to the kitchen and doesn’t say anything else to Claire.

“What’s up with him?” Claire asks bluntly. 

“He knows bullshit when he sees it.”

At 8:05 a.m., Cas steps up to the counter and gives Claire a bright smile and an enthusiastic wave. Claire glares at him, still acting as if he’s the last person on earth she would ever want to see.

So Dean of course intervenes and pushes Claire out of the way. “What can I do you for, Cas?”

“I wanted to see how Claire’s first day is going.”

“She’s only been here for 10 minutes, buddy.” 

“Oh. Right. Well, tell her I’ll be rooting for her. Also, I would like a piece of banana bread and a cup of coffee.”

“Coming right up.” Dean gives Cas a wink and ignores the eye roll he gets from Claire.

The morning rush hasn’t quite arrived yet, so Dean delivers Cas’ coffee to him instead of asking Claire to do it. They usually just shout out people’s names, but that obviously wouldn't work with Cas.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” Dean says after he sets the coffee down. 

Cas smiles up at him and takes the cup in both of his hands.

Dean huffs a laugh and says, “You’re welcome, Cas.”

On his way back up to the counter, a hand touches Dean’s shoulder to get him to turn around.

“Hey, Dean, is Sam here?” Eileen signs absentmindedly as she looks around the mostly empty shop.

“He’s in the back,” Dean signs back. Sometimes, for some reason, he and Eileen prefer not to use their voices when they’re talking to each other. Maybe because Dean was fucking determined to learn sign language from the moment Sam introduced him to Eileen, and Eileen took it upon herself to teach him. Dean swears that during their first year of dating, he spent more time with Eileen than Sam did. 

“Thank you,” Eileen signs before passing Dean and heading toward the counter.

Very loudly, Claire asks, “What the hell is going on? Is everybody here deaf?”

“Hey!” Dean chastises, but Eileen’s laughter cuts him off.

She holds her hand out to Claire and says, “You must be Claire. Dean’s told me about you.” 

Claire squints at Dean as she shakes Eileen’s hand. Sometimes Dean tells Eileen things that he wouldn’t tell Sam. Like how a nice guy who can’t read lips very well has unfortunately been saddled with a moody teenager.

Eileen, unlike Sam, knows not to ask Dean if he has a crush on said nice guy. 

At 8:22 a.m., Cas leaves with a wave to Claire and Dean. Claire doesn’t wave back. 

“So, Eileen is your sister-in-law?” Claire asks apropos of nothing.

“Mm-hmm,” Dean responds as he rings up a customer.

“Is that why you know sign language?”

“Yep.” 

Claire doesn’t say anything else, and Dean peers at her curiously as she makes a drink for someone.

“I could teach you,” Dean offers.

Claire scoffs at him.

“Or Eileen could teach you. Or Sam. You really don’t have a good excuse not to learn.”

“How ‘bout I just don’t want to?”

“All right, if you wanna be that way.”

“Really? You’re not gonna argue with me?”

Dean shrugs and smiles confidently.

He was just like Claire when he was her age. He knows she’ll come around.

 

* * *

 

A month after the shop opens, Dean gives up on his last remaining pair of jeans. Being a baker is everything he dreamed it would be, and he’s resigned himself to the fact that getting fat is just part of the job description.

(“No it’s not,” Sam would say on the car ride to the mall to buy bigger pants. “You just have no self-control.”)

In any case, Dean is 20 pounds heavier and the sign in his shop becomes less ironic every day. 

He walks out of the mall wearing his new jeans, and he and Sam drive directly to the bakery. Kevin and Alex both straighten up when they come in, and Alex tries to be sneaky as she pockets her phone.

“Where were you guys?” Alex asks. 

“None of your business,” Dean answers at the same time Sam says, “Dean had to buy new pants because he can't fit into his old ones.”

Dean picks up a rag and snaps it at Sam’s arm. Kevin and Alex both laugh, and Kevin at least has the courtesy to try to pretend like he’s _not_ laughing. 

“Laugh it up, assholes,” Dean says. “I could still get a date faster than either of you.” As he ties his apron on, he mumbles, “You know, if I wanted.”

“Speak of the devil,” Alex says as the door dings.

Dean spins around in time to see Cas’ small wave.

“Claire’s not working today, man,” Dean signs.

“I know. I came to see you.”

Sam laughs, and Dean glares at him until he disappears into the kitchen.

“What’s going on? What are you guys saying?” Kevin asks in a panic. 

“Banana bread and coffee?”

“A mocha today would be nice.”

“Are you guys purposely fucking with us?” Alex asks.

“These kids are wondering what we’re talking about,” Dean signs with a smile. 

Cas glances between Kevin and Alex before hunching over the counter to draw closer to Dean. “So I can openly flirt with you and they can’t make fun of you about it later?” 

Dean blushes furiously and smiles down at the counter. Composing himself, he lifts his hands and says, “Not if I can’t keep my reactions in check.”

“Seriously, what is happening?” Kevin shouts.

“I’ll bring you your order,” Dean signs as he leans away from the counter. “And just so you know, flirting with the baker is prohibited.”

Cas presses his thumb and forefinger together to say "A-OK" and then sarcastically winks at Dean. Dean laughs and waves him off.

“Remind me again, why aren’t you guys dating?” Alex asks. 

“Oh, you know, I was gonna tell you but then I remembered that it’s none of your damn business.”

Just as Alex flips him the bird, Jody bursts through the door holding Claire by the collar of her jacket. Cas stands up from his table and follows Jody up to the counter.

“Um, what can I do for you, sheriff?” Dean asks warily.

“This one works for you, too, doesn’t she?” Jody responds, sounding exasperated.

“She does. And that’s her foster dad, Cas,” Dean says, pointing to Cas.

Cas waves awkwardly.

“No shit, you’re a foster kid?” Alex interrupts, looking at Claire with hope in her eyes.

Claire glares at her and reluctantly nods.

“Me, too. Well, until Jody adopted me a few years ago.” Alex turns to Dean and slaps his shoulder. “Dude, why do you never schedule us together?”

“Jody, what’s the problem?” Dean asks, ignoring Alex. 

“You mind giving her a few more hours so she doesn’t have time to sell pot behind the bleachers?” 

Dean looks at Claire and clenches his jaw. Her eyes drop in shame.

Jody turns toward Cas and starts to talk, but Dean cuts her off.

“He’s deaf, sheriff.”

“Oh,” Jody responds without missing a beat. She lifts her hands and explains the problem to Cas using the little sign language she knows from hanging around Sam and Eileen too much. 

Cas looks shocked, and then he gives Claire an even sterner look than Dean did. It makes a shiver run down Dean’s spine. He then turns his gaze on Dean and nods to him before putting a hand on Claire’s shoulder and leading her out of the shop. 

Jody watches them go and then turns back to Dean with a deep sigh. “Can I get a black coffee? Large.”

Dean snaps his fingers at Alex, and she begrudgingly goes over to the coffee maker. 

“You didn’t hire Claire just to get in Argyle Sweater’s pants, did you?” Jody asks loudly enough for other patrons to hear.

“Jesus, you and Alex are way too similar,” Dean responds. 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Dean.”

“No. I didn’t. She _asked_ for a job. Cas and I are friends.”

“Friends who silently flirt with each other!” Alex adds.

Dean nods and shrugs to concede that Alex is right. 

As Jody takes her coffee from Alex, she says, “Well, I hope Cas has a thing for chubby guys.” She patronizingly pinches Dean’s cheek. “You’re putting on weight, Dean.”

“Thanks, I didn’t notice,” Dean deadpans.

With a smile and a wave, Jody leaves.

 

* * *

 

“So, _that’s_ weird,” Sam says with a nod toward Alex and Claire.

He and Dean are standing in the kitchen eating breakfast before the shop opens, and it’s the first time Dean has scheduled Alex and Claire at the same time. They both arrived 10 minutes early and have been talking animatedly for most of those minutes. Dean has no idea what it means.

“Yeah…” Dean agrees.

“You got a policy on coworkers dating each other?” Sam asks as he stirs cream into his coffee.

“Nope.”

“Hey, that reminds me, when are you gonna introduce me to Cas?” 

“Wow, you just became king of the non sequitur.”

“Did I? So you’re saying you’re _not_ dating Cas?”

“Dude, _no_. He only comes into the shop, like, two times a week. I don’t even have his number.”

“He has a phone?”

“He likes to text. Apparently. He mentioned it. You know what? Leave me alone.”

“Hm. When was the last time you went on a date?”

“Never, because I don’t date. You can introduce yourself to Cas the next time you’re both here at the same time.”

Dean starts to walk away, and Sam calls after him, “Wouldn’t it be crazy if we were both married to people who can’t hear?” 

Later that day, Dean runs into Claire in the kitchen and grabs her by the sleeve to have a conversation with her.

“Hey, you know I won’t always be able to bail you out if you get caught for dealing? And eventually I’d have to fire you for it. You get that, right?”

“Yeah, I get it,” she responds petulantly. She tries to walk away, but Dean grabs her sleeve again.

“And what’s up with you and Alex?” 

Her face turns pink, and that’s really the only answer Dean needs. “Nothing,” she mumbles. “Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t stop her from walking away this time. 

Right before closing time, Cas comes in looking like he had a terrible day. He stalks up to Dean and asks, “Dean, could I ask a favor of you?”

“Sure, Cas, what’s up?”

“I need to have a conversation with Claire about her behavior, but it’s impossible to do so. Would you mind being our mediator?” 

“Uh…” Dean starts to scratch his chin but then stops when Cas’ attention draws toward it. Dean’s jaw isn’t exactly as _chiseled_ as it was the day he and Cas met. “Sure, Cas. Yeah. Why not.”

Cas’ face lights up. “Thank you, Dean. Can we do it here? Whenever you close?”

“Yeah. ‘Course.” Once Cas turns away, Dean says, “Not like I could say no to you, you argyle-sweater-wearing bastard.” 

“What’d you say?” Alex asks from right beside Dean.

“Jesus, where’d you come from? Sweep up the back and go home, please.”

“Are you cutting Claire at the same time as me? We were gonna hang out.”

“Not gonna happen. Claire’s busy after work.”

“What? No she’s—”

“Claire, you’re canceling on Alex. Cas wants to have a chat with you here,” Dean shouts toward the register.

Both girls complain, but Dean ignores them.

_Fucking teenagers._

Sam comes out of the back then and immediately asks, "Hey, is that Cas over there?"

"How the hell did you—"

Before Dean can finish his sentence, Sam has walked over to Cas' regular table and is already shaking his hand. They smile widely at each other like they're old friends, and Sam takes a seat across from Cas.

Dean doesn't even bother pretending like he's not watching their conversation.

_"You must be Dean's brother."_

_"And you must be Dean's friend Cas."_

_"Eileen's told me a lot about you."_

_"Same. You should come to our apartment sometime and hang out."_

_"Oh, I would but I have Claire to take care of. Being a foster parent is more difficult than I ever imagined it would be."_

A patron walks up and tears Dean's attention away from Cas and Sam. As he gets their order for them, Dean wonders when the hell Cas and Eileen have been hanging out. 

Sam comes back around the counter a few minutes later and says, "He's cool. And he likes you."

"Of course he likes me. I'm a goddamn catch."

One of their regulars, Donna, is sitting close enough to eavesdrop. She giggles at Dean's statement, and Dean points and winks at her.

"Hey, when the hell have Eileen and Cas hung out?" Dean asks.

Sam shrugs. "I don't know. She's here often enough. It's possible she sits with Cas sometimes and you've just never noticed."

"Huh. Yeah, probably." 

Five minutes into mediating for Cas and Claire, Dean regrets it. They are both stubborn and prone to anger, and Dean’s not exactly the most levelheaded person himself. At one point Cas gets mad at Dean for shouting at Claire, and then Cas and Dean get into an argument that ends when Claire fails to stifle a laugh.

“I’m sorry!” she says through laughter. “It just looks so ridiculous to watch a silent argument.” 

By the time they’re done, Dean feels like they got nowhere. Claire still hates Cas and refuses to learn ASL, and Cas seems more frustrated than he was at the beginning of their talk. Claire leaves Dean and Cas sitting at the table in the dim light, and Dean feels completely lost as to what to say.

Which sucks all the more when Cas looks at him hopelessly, as if waiting for answers. 

“C’mere, Cas,” Dean says softly, standing from his seat.

Cas looks confused, but he stands anyway. 

Dean grabs him and gathers him into his arms. Cas stiffens at first, but then he eventually relaxes and wraps strong arms around Dean’s waist.

“Wish I could do more for you, buddy,” Dean says into his hair. Knowing Cas can’t hear him, he continues, “You deserve better.”

 

* * *

 

“That sign isn’t a lie anymore,” Cas greets when he comes in on a windy Sunday morning a couple months after their grand opening. He points behind Dean with a smile.

Dean laughs and pats his belly. “You telling me I need to lay off the pie?” 

“I would never try to separate you from your one true love.”

“Man after my own heart.”

“Are you guys talking about how fat you’ve gotten?” Krissy asks as she comes out of the kitchen. She smacks Dean’s side as she walks to the register.

“I’m not fat. I’m just…round.” Dean looks down at himself and fruitlessly tries to suck in his gut. When he lets his breath out, his stomach actually bounces under his apron. _Jesus, I_ am _fat,_ he thinks in embarrassment. But when he looks up, Cas is staring fondly at his stomach. “You like what you see, Cas?”

“Gross,” Krissy comments.

“I think it’s fitting for you,” Cas answers. “You look handsome.”

Dean preens under the compliment, and he checks to make sure Krissy isn’t paying attention (not that she even knows ASL, but whatever) before he signs, “I think you’re handsome, too, Cas. Ugly argyle sweaters and all.”

Cas rolls his eyes and says, “I need help with the apple pie recipe you gave me. I tried to cook it the other night, but I must’ve done something wrong or my oven doesn’t work right because it came out burnt on the edges but doughy in the middle and the apples tasted terrible even though I followed all of your instructions perfectly. Can I stop by at closing sometime this week and watch how you do it?”

“Yeah, you can come tonight if you want.” Dean doesn’t say it out loud. He doesn’t need Krissy hounding him about a potential _date_ with Cas.

Cas smiles warmly and waves at Dean as he leaves. Dean gives him a wink in response.

“I still don’t get why you’re not hitting that,” Krissy says once Cas is gone. “It’s been, like, two months.”

“You know, not everything is about sex. Maybe I like just being friends with Cas.”

“Yeah, and Claire and Alex didn’t make out behind the dumpsters last week.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

It’s not “nothing.” Claire and Alex both work the afternoon shift, and Dean catches them with their hands all over each other up against one of the refrigerators in the back. After taking a picture of them on his phone for blackmail purposes, he busts them and yells at them to get back to work. They adjust their hair and clothes and have the decency to look embarrassed when they pass by him.

By the end of the day, Dean’s forgotten about his promise to Cas. He sends the girls home and is shutting the lights off when Cas furiously knocks on the front door.

“Shit, Cas, I forgot you were coming,” he explains as he lets him in from the cold.

Cas takes off his coat and scarf and hangs them on the coat rack before saying anything. “I would’ve texted you to remind you, but I don’t have your phone number. I also meant to get here earlier, but I didn’t realize it was so cold and had to run back inside to change my clothes. Then there was traffic, and I kept getting stuck at—”

“Cas. It’s OK. Let’s get cooking, all right?”

Once they’re back in the kitchen, Cas seems tentative to make himself at home. He tiptoes around and doesn’t touch anything, so Dean tosses him an apron to try to make him feel like he belongs. Well, and because Dean wants to see what Cas looks like wearing an apron.

Cas has to wrap the apron string around to the front to tie it, and once he’s done he says, “This string is very long.”

“Yeah, uh…” Dean points to his belly as an explanation.

Cas laughs out loud, and the tips of Dean’s ears burn.

“All right, so how do you want to do this?” Dean asks. “It’s kind of hard to explain to you what I’m doing while I do it, so do you want to just watch? I can stop and explain whenever you want me to. Or, if you’ve got a question just tap me on the shoulder, all right?”

Cas nods very seriously, and Dean smiles in response.

They start by chopping apples together, and Dean hums to himself to fill the silence. He’s grateful that Cas can’t get annoyed at how out of tune he is. 

Cas stirs the apple slices while Dean explains how to give the apples the right amount of cinnamon taste. He starts mixing the ingredients for the dough, and he playfully flicks flour at Cas. 

Cas looks shocked and offended, and Dean thinks, _uh-oh._ Cas carefully sets the bowl of apples down, and Dean’s heart rate spikes. He has no idea how pissed Cas is, and he’s afraid to find out. 

Five seconds later, Dean chokes on flour. His face is covered in it, and he furiously wipes it off and flicks it back at his friend. Cas ducks, so Dean grabs a handful of flour out of the bag and races forward to lock Cas in a chokehold. He ruffles the flour into his hair, and Cas squirms out of his hold and bats at his hair.

Once both of them are covered head to toe in flour, Cas tackles Dean to the floor and tries to pin him. Dean tickles his sides to get him off, but of course Cas isn’t ticklish. Belatedly realizing that he’s probably got 50 pounds on Cas (yikes), Dean grabs him by the shoulders and manhandles him until Cas rolls to the side. Dean then swings his leg over his waist and presses his hands to Cas’ forearms so he’s got him completely pinned. He might be heavier than he’s ever been in his life, but he’s still agile as fuck.

They stop to catch their breath, and Dean lets go of one of Cas’ wrists and wipes the flour off of his cheek. Cas childishly pushes his hand away and picks up some flour from the floor and throws it in Dean’s face.

“Dude, that floor’s fucking dirty!” Dean shouts. 

Cas looks at him, confused. 

Dean rolls his eyes and takes both of his hands off Cas so he can sign, “The floor is dirty.” 

“Oh. Sorry,” Cas responds, awkwardly holding his arms up above his face as he moves his hands.

Dean laughs and pushes Cas’ arms out of the way so he can look in his eyes. They’re both still breathing heavy, and Cas keeps scanning Dean’s face as if waiting on something to happen.

After a few more seconds, Cas signs, “You’re very heavy.”

Dean wriggles around in Cas’ lap and presses his weight more fully against him. “You love it.”

Cas huffs a laugh and pokes the center of Dean’s belly. 

Dean rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. He reaches his hand down to help, and when Cas pops up they’re standing so close that Dean can feel his belly pressing against Cas’ apron. Dean clears his throat, and Cas smiles at him.

“So,” Dean says awkwardly, taking a step back so he has room to sign. “Let’s roll out some dough, huh?”

They have to clean off the counter before they can roll it out, and for a minute Cas just watches Dean work. Dean feels self-conscious with Cas’ eyes on him, and he especially feels self-conscious about the way his stomach hits the edge of the counter when he pushes the rolling pin forward.

Eventually Cas’ hand drops to Dean’s shoulder, and Dean turns toward him to ask what’s up. Cas points at the roller, and Dean nods and hands it off to him.

“No, don’t—you’re not—Cas, that’s not how you—fuck, you can’t fucking hear me.”

Without thinking, Dean comes up behind Cas and puts his hands over Cas’. Cas turns his head in bewilderment, but then he immediately turns back toward the dough once Dean starts moving the rolling pin forward. Cas inhales deeply and focuses all of his attention on the task at hand, but then when they start moving back Cas’ whole body presses against Dean’s front and Dean has to swallow a lump in his throat.

“Yeah, Cas, doing a great job,” Dean mumbles in his ear. “And you look real cute doing it. You have nice hands. My fingers are getting kind of pudgy, which is embarrassing next to your fucking gorgeous hands. I’m so glad you can’t hear me. I’d ask you out if I was a person that asked people out.”

Cas stops moving his hands and spins in Dean’s arms. Dean doesn’t bother taking a step back. Cas squints at him.

“Your breath is tickling my ear. I know you’re whispering.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dean lies with a goofy grin on his face.

Cas squints some more. “What did you say?”

“I said you have nice hands and that mine look dumb because my fingers are getting fat.” Dean holds up his hands and wiggles his fingers.

Cas smiles and replies, “Your hands sign beautifully. You shouldn’t speak poorly of yourself.”

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs Cas by the shoulders so he can turn him back around.

They continue rolling the dough together in silence, and if they spend a little extra time on it than is absolutely necessary, well, it’s not like anybody has to know.

 

* * *

 

“What the hell is that?” Dean asks with a nod toward the four mason jars sitting near the register.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Alex answers suspiciously. 

Dean goes over to the jars anyway. On each of them is a label: March 1, April 15, May 20, Never.

“What the hell does—” Dean cuts himself off when he sees the sign behind the mason jars.

It reads, “When do you think Dean (the chubby baker) and Cas (the deaf guy in the argyle sweater) are gonna kiss?”

Dean clenches his jaw and turns toward Krissy, who is standing at the register and pointedly ignoring him. “Was this your idea?” he asks gruffly.

“It was mine!”

Dean recognizes the voice and spins around to point an accusatory finger. “You don’t even work here.”

Charlie pushes her (fake) glasses up her nose and answers, “Nope, which is exactly the point. Why do I, person who doesn’t work here, know about Dean and Cas? Because you two are ridiculous is the correct answer.”

“You come in here every day! You have an unfair advantage,” Dean says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hmm, so you admit that seeing you and Cas interact every day would lead a patron to believe that you want to smooch his face?” 

Dean opens his mouth and then closes it with a growl. Alex reaches past Dean and gives Charlie a high five. 

“Cas doesn’t even come in here every day,” Dean tries to argue.

“Uh, yeah he does?” Krissy responds. “For the past two weeks, he’s been in here every day.”

Dean tries to think and realizes that Krissy’s probably right. Huh.

“Checkmate, dude,” Charlie says, pointing finger guns at Dean.

“Whose jar is whose?” Dean asks as he gestures toward the jars.

“Claire’s is ‘never,’” Alex answers. “She figured she’d get cash from the homophobes and the women who still think they have a chance with you.”

Kevin enters from the back, which means that Alex is free to go home. She doesn’t move, though.

“You really think any women coming in here still want to go out with this?” Dean rubs a hand over his belly.

Charlie, Alex and Krissy all give each other a _look_. Krissy answers, “I mean, we’re really not the people to ask, but objectively speaking I still think you’re cute.”

“Yeah, maybe even cuter than before,” Charlie adds.

“I agree,” Kevin says quietly.

They all turn to glare at him.

He lifts his head and furrows his brow at them. “What?”

After a beat, Krissy exclaims, “Goddamn it, Kevin, you’re supposed to be our token straight person.”

 

* * *

 

Dean starts to notice that Cas comes in every day. He can’t believe he didn’t notice it before. Cas has become such a constant in his life, like Charlie’s ridiculous green tea habit or Donna’s love of his glazed donuts, that he didn’t even realize how used to seeing Cas he had become.

So he starts paying more attention. 

Usually Cas just orders his bread and asks Dean how he’s doing, and then he goes to his table and sits for a while and then waves before he leaves.

Sometimes Dean isn’t busy, so he gets to sit with Cas for a few minutes and talk about nothing in particular.

One day Eileen gets off work early and stops by the shop, and she and Cas end up sitting together and signing furiously with each other for almost two hours. Dean occasionally glances over at them and wonders how the hell their arms aren’t tired. He catches bits and pieces of their conversation, but a lot of it is too fast for him to keep up with.

_“Dean taught me how to make apple pie a couple of weeks ago, but I still can’t make it the way he does.”_

 

 _“Sam hasn’t been texting you too much, has he? He can be a chatty texter.”_ (Dean didn’t even know Sam had Cas’ phone number.)

_"No, I like texting Sam. He is very clever."_

 

_“I think Dean is very handsome.”_

_“Then why don’t you ask him out?”_

_“I like being friends with him. I don’t need anything more.”_

_“Yeah, but don’t you ever want to kiss him?”_

Cas blushes and looks down at the table, and Dean averts his gaze.

Other days are less pleasant. Cas tries to talk to Claire whenever she’s working, but she always blows him off. Dean would get pissed at her, but he’s done interfering in their lives.

One day they both come in on Claire’s day off, and Claire folds her hands on the table and leans forward. She talks slowly and opens her mouth wide, and Cas studies her face as if he’s trying to force himself to learn how to lip read. Dean thinks it’s actually a sign of effort on Claire’s part, but then she gets frustrated after five minutes and storms off. Cas stares down at the table blankly. Dean considers going to him, but he doesn’t want him to know that he saw what just happened.

Oh, and of course Cas notices the mason jars the day they appear on the counter. Dean attempts to grab the sign and tear it up before Cas sees, but by the time he gets there it’s too late.

“Whoever guessed March 1 is probably going to be wrong—unless you and I kiss in the next 48 hours,” Cas says seriously without even looking up at Dean.

Dean laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Sorry, buddy, I can take this crap down if you want me to.”

Cas shakes his head vigorously. “I think it’s an excellent way to get tips. I’m assuming each jar represents an employee, and they each get to take home whatever money is in their jar at the end of the day?”

“Yeah. I didn’t approve it, but since when have I had any control over my employees?”

“They don’t cause you too much trouble, do they?” 

Dean starts to answer and then remembers the day he saw Claire and Alex necking in the back. Actually, he’s seen them a few times now. Dean assumes that Cas has no idea, and he’s not about to create even more of a rift between him and Claire.

“Dean?” Cas asks.

“Hmm? Oh. No, they don’t cause too much trouble. Well, most of them don’t.”

Cas looks back down at the mason jars one more time. “Who do you want to win?”

“What?” 

“The contest. When do you think the chubby baker will kiss the deaf sweater man?” 

Dean bursts out laughing and doesn’t answer Cas’ question.

 

* * *

 

At the three-month mark, Claire comes up to Dean one afternoon and asks him if she can learn how to cook some of the food they make. She ends up coming in after they close some nights and getting there early in the mornings to learn. She seems determined, and Dean is smart enough not to ask any questions. If his people want to work extra hours, he’s not going to complain and he’s certainly not going to question their motives.

After about a week, though, Claire slams down the mixing bowl she was using and turns to Dean in a huff. Speaking as if she’s being forced to get the words out, she asks, “Can you teach me how to do sign language?”

Dean grins and pats her on the shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Dean is sitting at the register talking to Charlie about Star Trek when Cas bursts through the door and stomps up to the counter.

"Um, what can I do for you, Cas?" Dean asks, standing from his stool and furrowing his brow at his friend.

Cas looks at Charlie and then back to Dean. "What kind of person is Alex?"

The door opens again, and Jody walks in with a deep sigh. She puts her hands on her hips and stops next to Cas.

"Oh shit, they found out about Claire and Alex," Charlie whispers excitedly.

Jody and Dean both give her a stern look. Cas turns to her in confusion and then looks back at Dean, waiting for an explanation. Charlie lifts her hands in a placating gesture and slowly backs away.

"Did you know my kid was a lesbian, Dean?" Jody asks pointblank. 

"I'm sorry, you  _didn't?_ She wears flannel, like, every day, Jody."

"What are you guys saying?" Cas interrupts, obviously frustrated. "I want to know why Alex spent the night at my house last night."

"Alex and Claire are dating, Cas," Dean signs.

"Wait, what are you saying?" Jody asks, also frustrated. "You're signing 90 miles a minute."

Dean looks up at the ceiling and groans loudly. "Your kids are gay," he says and signs. "Everyone in this bakery is gay! Charlie is gay."

"Hey, guys," Charlie chimes in from across the room.

"Hell, you guys are gay." Dean points back and forth between Jody and Cas.

"I am not—"

"Yeah, sure, sheriff. Now explain to me how it's _my_ problem that your kids are hooking up with each other?"

Jody and Cas look at each other and then turn back to Dean.

It's Jody who says, "They don't listen to us. You're the only one capable of diffusing the situation."

"What? You think they listen to _me?_   And why does the situation need to be diffused anyway? You worried about one of them getting pregnant? Because if so, I've got some good news—"

"Can you just tell them that we know?" Jody interrupts. She signs the question as well.

"What?"

"I asked Claire about it, and she lied to me," Cas explains. "The same thing happened to Jody. We need them to know that they don't have to lie to us."

"Huh. All right," Dean agrees, thinking.

 Jody and Cas both stare at him in anticipation, so he shoos them away and tells them if they want to stay then they have to buy something. Both of them choose to leave.

At Claire's sign language lesson that night, Dean teaches her how to say, "I'm a liar who thinks it's edgy and cool to kiss girls behind my foster dad's back."

"Why's everybody need to know our business?" Claire asks in annoyance.

"Because you're 16 and life sucks," Dean responds seriously. "Just don't lie to Cas, all right?"

Claire rolls her eyes, but the next time Cas comes in he thanks Dean and says that he's going to invite Alex over for a family dinner one night.

Dean smiles sadly at him, knowing that up until this point all of his attempts at a "family dinner" with Claire have failed. 

 

* * *

 

Dean and Eileen and Claire are sitting in a circle on the floor of the kitchen when Sam gets to work. 

“Um,” he greets.

“Hey, Sammy, join us,” Dean says as he grabs Claire’s hand to correct her movement.

Without saying anything else, Sam folds his long legs and takes a seat between Dean and Eileen. 

“Hey, babe,” Eileen says as she leans over to give Sam a kiss. 

When they pull away, Sam asks, “Are we teaching Claire ASL?”

All three of them nod.

“Does Cas know?”

They shake their heads. 

“Wow. He’ll be happy.”

“That’s the idea,” Dean says with a stupid grin.

“Oh my god, that’s how you’re gonna get in his pants, isn’t it?”

Eileen smacks Sam in the arm.

“Dude, how did you understand that? He wasn’t even looking at you,” Dean says in wonder.

Eileen sticks her tongue out at him and turns her attention back toward Claire.

“You know I know Cas likes me, right? I can get in his pants any time I want to."

“Yeah, so why haven’t you done anything about it?”

Dean shrugs. “I think we’re fine as is." 

“So…you _don’t_ want to get in his pants?”

“God, I wish I was fucking deaf so I didn't have to hear this conversation,” Claire complains.

“Not everything has to be about sex, Sammy. No, Claire—you’re doing that wrong—here—let me—”

 

* * *

 

Dean pretty much permanently has flour on his apron across the part of his stomach that sticks out the farthest. He accidentally bumps into things all the time, even though he’s had a gut for a couple of months now and his weight finally leveled out a few weeks ago. He’s not used to the space he takes up, and he constantly apologizes to inanimate objects for running into them. His employees have taken to poking his belly whenever they walk past him, and the patrons seem to find it hilarious.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, I could still kick all your asses,” is Dean’s only comeback to people making fun of him for his weight.

It was Alex who thought Dean and Cas would kiss by March 1, and so she changes the date on her jar to August 10. Even Dean gives her a skeptical look for picking a date so far away. 

“What? I’m not gonna pick a closer date and then have to change it again. That would be embarrassing,” she explains.

April 15 passes as well, and Kevin is forced to change his date to June 15. Dean was surprised by that one. Well, he’s surprised that Kevin is participating at all.

Patrons regularly ask Dean about Cas, and he shrugs them off. “We’re just friends,” he’ll say, but they always frown at that response. So instead he starts saying, “We’re taking things slow.”

Which, weirdly, seems true. Again, Cas is a constant in Dean’s life. There’s no rush or hurry to move past friendship because they have all the time in the world together. And both of them are content where they are. So what’s the rush? 

Of course, that philosophy is all well and good until Cas asks if he can get another baking lesson.

And another.

And another.

Dean doesn’t have a whole lot of free time, but half of it he spends teaching Claire ASL and the other half of it he spends pressed up against Cas’ back as he shows him how to bake.

Cas is warm and solid and his hair always smells like rain, and Dean could spend the rest of his life pressed up against him and die a happy man.

Sometimes they don’t get a lot of baking done. They end up leaning against the counter and signing until Cas realizes that he has a kid at home and needs to go. Sometimes, Cas is in such a rush that he loses himself and gives Dean a hug instead of a wave. He always pulls away with a tight-lipped smile and an extremely awkward pat to the part of Dean where his chest turns into the curve of his belly.

“You don’t have to feel weird about hugging me,” Dean says stupidly one night right after Cas has done the awkward chest-belly pat.

“Yes, but I _do_ feel weird about hugging you.” 

“Why?”

Cas tilts his head and peers curiously at him. “I don’t know.”

“Here,” Dean says, standing up straight and holding his arms out. 

Cas doesn’t move, so Dean waves his hands toward himself.

Cas takes a tentative step forward, and Dean wraps him up in a tight bear hug. One thing about being chubby is that hugs are better. Dean’s body melts into Cas’, and Cas props his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

“I love you, you fucking idiot,” Dean says affectionately—the way he’d say it to Sam or Eileen or any of the dumb kids that work for him.

The only difference is that Cas can’t hear it.

The handle to the back door starts to shake, and Dean and Cas try to pull themselves away from each other.

Too late.

“Oh my god. _Oh my god._ What’s the date? What’s the date!” Sam fumbles with his phone, presumably looking for a calendar.

“We didn’t kiss,” Dean says gruffly, but he doesn’t move away from Cas. He still has his hand near his lower back. “And since when do you even care about the stupid tip jars anyway?”

“Since always.” He pockets his phone and signs, “What the fuck are you guys doing here so late?”

“Do you think we kissed, Sam?” Cas asks. 

Dean presses his hand a little harder against his back.

“We didn’t kiss,” Cas continues with conviction in his hands.

“So…why are you guys here so late?” 

Dean points toward the oven, and miraculously it chooses right then to ding. With his mouth open in shock, he walks over to the oven and pulls out a loaf of bread.

The three of them end up standing around eating until there's no more bread left. Cas forgets that he was supposed to go home to make sure Claire’s OK. Sam forgets that he was supposed to harass Dean and Cas about whatever it is he thought they were doing before he came in. Dean forgets to censor himself around Sam, and he shows such open affection for Cas that Sam keeps suspiciously raising his eyebrows at them. 

Another night, Dean and Cas don't say anything to each other until the cupcakes come out of the oven. They eat them together, and when Cas is done he looks very seriously down at the counter.

Dean chucks Cas' chin to make him look up at him so he can ask, "What's on your mind, buddy?" He then picks up his third cupcake. 

"I'm not getting anywhere with Claire. I can't understand her, and I don't know how to make her feel at home with me."

Dean sets his half-eaten cupcake down and responds, "I wouldn't worry too much about it, Cas. She's a moody kid just like tons of other moody kids out there. Even if you could talk to her, you probably wouldn't understand her. Hell, I know  _I_ don't, and I was just like her when I was her age."

"You were?" Cas asks in surprise.

"Uh, yeah. Sammy and I traveled around with my dad and never really settled down anywhere. Not until he died when I was in high school. We almost got tossed into the foster system, but our friend Bobby took us in. And, you know, I turned out all right." Dean gives Cas a stupid grin and shoves the rest of the cupcake in his mouth.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't know you went through that."

Dean waves him off. "It's no big deal. All I'm saying is that you just need to give it some time with Claire. She'll come around."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, I do."

Cas smiles sweetly at Dean and pats his shoulder in thanks. 

 

* * *

 

On a sunny day in May, Castiel walks into the shop and waves toward the counter. Dean is at the display case handing Donna her donut, and Claire is at the register waving back at Cas.

Once Cas is standing in front of her, Claire lifts her hands and signs, “What would you like today?”

Cas’ mouth drops open, and the color drains from his face. He looks at Claire, looks at Dean, looks at Claire, looks at Dean. 

Eventually he very slowly raises his own hands and tentatively asks, “Where did you learn that?”

With a smile, Claire points her thumb toward Dean. 

Cas looks at Dean again, and Dean waves sheepishly at him.

“Excuse me just one second,” Cas signs to Claire before turning on his heel and heading out the front door.

“What was _that_ about?” Donna asks cheerfully. 

“I…have no idea,” Dean responds, staring toward the door.

The bell dings a second later, and Cas pushes through people and stomps up to the counter. He holds up a $20 bill and shoves it into the May 20 jar.

He then points at Dean, flips his hand over, makes the “come here” motion with his finger, and _climbs over the goddamn counter._

Dean fumbles to take his gloves off, wipes his hands on his apron, and just barely manages to catch Cas as he slams into him.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! It’s happening! Guys, it’s happening!” one of the patrons yells, and it’s so fucking ridiculous that Dean doesn’t even recognize the voice. Probably doesn’t even know the dude’s name. 

Cas’ lips are chapped. He moves his mouth softly against Dean’s even as he shoves him into the back wall. Something above them comes off the wall and falls to the floor with a crash. 

The cheers of the patrons are insane, and Dean pulls his head back and frowns at Cas.

Cas removes his hands from Dean’s love handles and asks, “What is it?”

Dean points over Cas’ shoulder, and Cas immediately turns his head. The cheers grow louder, and some people even do the sign for clapping. 

After a few seconds, Cas whips his head back around to Dean and smiles brightly at him. Dean can feel Cas’ smile against his lips, and he thinks it might taste better than apple pie.

Cas keeps pushing him, and they stumble back until Dean’s heel hits the kitchen door and they fall through it.

“No, please, come in. It’s not like I’m working here or anything,” Krissy says flatly from somewhere near the refrigerators. 

Without taking his lips off Cas’, Dean flips her off and then snaps and points toward the door. She sighs and leaves.

Once she’s gone, Cas grabs the front of Dean’s apron and affectionately rubs his nose and forehead against Dean’s. Dean lets out a hum and digs his fingers into Cas’ hips.

“I need to get back to work,” Dean eventually mumbles against Cas’ lips.

Cas pulls away and looks at him like he’s an idiot.

“Oh, right.” Dean lifts his hands between them and says, “I need to get back to work.”

Cas frowns.  

Dean leans forward and kisses his nose. “Invite me over to your house when I get off work.”

“OK. Dean, would you like to come over to my house when you get off work?”

“Yes, Cas, that would be great. Please text me your address.” 

They smile stupidly at each other, and Dean pulls Cas in by the neck for a hug. He presses a kiss to his cheek and thinks of all the times he was pressed up against Cas’ back resisting the temptation to kiss that goddamn cheek.

When they come back out of the kitchen, the place starts cheering again. Dean smacks Cas’ ass as he makes his way around the counter, and when Cas turns to give him a scandalized look Dean just winks at him. 

Lots of people pat Cas on the back and shake his hand before he gets to the door.

Dean finds Claire at the register counting money.

“What the hell’s that?” he asks as he picks up the “Never Trust a Skinny Baker” sign off the floor and hangs it back up on the wall.

“My tips.”

“What?” 

She stops counting and smiles smugly at Dean. “I was May 20. Krissy was 'never.'”

Dean clenches his jaw and puts his hands on his hips. “You planned this.”

“Yep.” 

“You hustled us.”

“Yep." She fans out her huge wad of cash. "You mad?”

Dean tries to glare at her, but he immediately deflates at the thought of Cas’ lips on his own. “No.”

 

* * *

  

Cas waves when he comes into the shop, even though his arm is hooked through Eileen’s. He's wearing one of Dean’s old t-shirts that doesn’t stand a chance of ever fitting Dean again, and Eileen is wearing one of Sam’s plaid button-downs as a dress.

 _Ugh,_ Dean thinks affectionately.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas signs as he approaches the display case.

Dean leans over and meets Cas for a kiss. When Cas starts to pull away, Dean hums and chases his lips. Cas smiles and puts a hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer, but Dean's already leaned as far over the counter as his belly will allow.

“Guys, c’mon,” Krissy complains from the register. “You’re cooler than this.”

Dean flips her off as he continues to kiss Cas. 

Eileen frantically pats Cas’ shoulder to get his attention, and Dean whines and makes a face at her when Cas pulls away.

She points at the mason jars in front of the register, and Dean feels a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Cas’ face lights up as he reads, and Dean stares at him and tries not to think about how much he cares about the fucking asshole.

“Whose idea was it?” Cas asks once he’s done reading.

Dean sheepishly raises his hand. Cas gives him a surprised look.

“I figure, uh,” Dean starts. He scratches his cheek and continues, “I can be in charge of when this one happens.”

Dean nods and looks down at the sign to reassure himself.

“When will Dean (the chubby baker) marry Cas (the deaf guy who wears Dean’s old t-shirts)?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the lack of pining in this fic oh wait no I'm not Dean is aro bruh
> 
> Also, somebody on tumblr reminded me - I meant to include a part where it's explained that it was an accident that Claire ended up with Cas. I don't think a situation would happen like that in real life, so please suspend disbelief with me.
> 
> Thanks to [Jessie](http://saywhatjessie.tumblr.com/) for beta reading this, and thanks to [vieroksuja](http://vieroksuja.tumblr.com/) for the amazing artwork!!
> 
> [I have a tag on tumblr for this fic.](http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/tagged/never-trust-a-skinny-baker)
> 
> [Reference for writing deaf characters](http://maddwood.tumblr.com/post/141107447448/ive-been-trying-to-write-a-deaf-character-but-my)
> 
> I'm [deancasheadcanons](http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, and [this is my website.](https://maddmadeshop.com/)


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